A Day For Giving In
by mad-eye-moodee
Summary: After the war, Harry must finally subject himself to getting his Apparating License. But maybe it won't be as horrible an experience as he feared...
A Day for Giving In

 _-H-_

Harry groaned as a letter marked with the emblem of the Ministry of Magic plopped onto his breakfast. (Winston, his tawny owl Hermione had gotten him for Christmas, was serving him well enough as a pet, but his mail delivering skills still needed improvement.) The Ministry had been pestering lately, as politely as they could manage, but they'd started to be more insistent, and it was driving Harry mad. As the Ministry had been so kind to inform him, he had not actually received his Apparating license. After weeks of incessant, thinly veiled pleading, Harry looked at the soggy envelope, and the eggs sure to taste of parchment and ink and thus ruined, and decided to finally submit himself to the torture of getting his license. Enough was enough.

Harry sent a patronus message to his assistant, explaining he would be late to the Auror office that day, and flooed his way down to the ministry. The place always seemed to Harry to have the odor of ham and cheddar sandwiches, ink, and shoe polish- an odd and uninviting combination to say the least. Upon reaching the license and registration floor and approaching the counter, more than a dozen faces had turned to gape at him- but none moreso than those behind the L&R counter, for his tardiness in registering (and his apathetic response to their reminders) was apparently well known throughout the floor.

The instructor led him through a corridor to a wide, white, oval chamber: the only place in the Ministry through which one can apparate- strictly for registration license tests. The instructor stood and spoke rigidly, as if he'd practiced in front of a mirror how to act normal and stern in front of Harry Potter. They began by apparating around London, and then the U.K, and further out from country to country until the instructor was satisfied in his abilities. Harry was then given a pink slip of paper, and instructed to go back out the corridor and find the desk again, to which he complied. The whole thing was dreadfully boring, and the line, moreover, seemed to have grown significantly while he was off doing his test. Harry begrudgingly took the last place in line, although thankful that no one was offering him their place due to his fame.

After a few minutes, a tall, slender man took his place behind Harry in line. He reached long fingers up to the hood of his cloak and pulled it down around his shoulders. Blonde hair came into view- it was Malfoy. Harry flushed slightly. He hadn't seen much of Malfoy since the end of the war: except, of course, in headlines and smear articles. After the choice of his mother to save him, and his decision to turn away from the dark arts for good after the battle of Hogwarts, Harry admitted to himself that perhaps Malfoy wasn't all that bad, really. Still insufferably arrogant, perhaps, but not all that bad. Harry especially didn't like that way the Daily Prophet treated him, or the majority of wizards nowadays. Couldn't they see he hadn't had a choice? He didn't know differently? Couldn't they see he was just a boy? Then again, Harry frowned, perhaps those who never felt the weight of a wizarding war on their shoulders as children would never understand.

Suddenly and quite without Harry's full awareness or approval, he found himself turning to face him.

"Malfoy." He said, not unpleasantly. Malfoy looked suspicious.

"...Potter." Harry was actually a bit pleased Malfoy'd even responded, as the Malfoy he knew would rather rattle off a jinx than engage in small talk.

"You alright, Potter?" Malfoy said, almost concerned. Shit, he'd gotten lost in thought again.

"Just trying to figure out, er, how... this... works." Harry replied awkwardly, waving a finger between he and Malfoy. Malfoy flushed too, abashed and quite obviously a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry," Harry added quickly. "Just, er-"

"No, you're right." Draco said matter-of factly. Harry stared blankly.

"I'm what?"

"You're right, Potter. I suppose there's no way of knowing quite what to say in this situation, eh?" Harry's pulse quickened in spite of himself. There still seemed to be another 12 people or so in front of them, and no comfortable end to the conversation to be found.

"Mm." Harry grunted in accord, not knowing what else to say. He'd found himself oddly forgetting much of the English language.

"So why're you here, Potter?" Malfoy asked, almost cordially. Harry tried to un-stun his head and think.

"Huh? Oh, finally getting licensed." He sheepishly held up the pink slip as evidence. Malfoy laughed, at his expense, admittedly, but different, now. Unlike the cruel laughs from Malfoy he'd heard before, Harry quite liked the sound of Malfoy's easy, light hearted chuckle that echoed oddly off the walls of the otherwise silent room. Several heads turned, and it was no wonder to Harry why- the man standing before him was so... different... than the one he'd known. He let his posture slump, he was talking to Harry, and now he was _laughing_? Harry hoped he hadn't been Confunded as Malfoy's voice snapped him back into reality.

"You're just getting it now?" Malfoy snickered.

Harry let a smile cross his face.

"Yeah, seems I was a bit too busy to get it earlier." Harry winced and held his breath, afraid bringing up the war would be a bit below the belt. To his relief, Malfoy seemed unperturbed. Wasn't it only a year ago they'd been throwing curses at each other? His thoughts were split away by Malfoy's crackling laugh.

"Suppose you were. So you've been going to and fro unregistered, then?" Taken aback by his easy smile, Harry only nodded, ignoring to the best of his ability the slight tremor in his hands when Malfoy- Draco- smiled like that. Draco laughed easily again. "Quite the unruly rebel, now, eh Potter?" His eyes twinkled. Was he really Confunded or was Draco actually quite handsome? "Suppose they'll lock you up in Azkaban?" Draco taunted lightly. This was definitely beyond their normal- or appropriate- banter. This was flirting. Grinning, Harry decided to play along. No more holding back; he **was** a Gryffindor, after all.

- _D-_

"Oh I'll show you unruly, _Malfoy,_ " Potter said with a suggestive, arrogant smirk. Did he really just wiggle his eyebrows at him? Was he drunk? No, not this early in the morning, Draco reasoned, even for him. Potter had always been the rowdy sort, but perhaps Granger had had enough of an influence on him as to sway him from getting plastered before work- and his Apparation Registering test, no less. What was it behind those bright green eyes Draco saw, then? Mischief, for sure, but if he wasn't trashed then... Why? Draco felt his cheeks flush slightly at the resulting thought. _Shut up_ , he told himself.

"On second thought, perhaps St. Mungo's would be a better fit." He retorted with a chuckle. Potter only raised an eyebrow and winked. Draco's thoughts came to a stuttering halt. Was- was Harry Potter _flirting_ with him? A jittery feeling in his stomach told him he hoped he was. Draco's pulse quickened and he licked his lips. Harry Potter or not, Draco was never one to be beaten in a challenge- or in a battle of wits. A bit rusty after the years that had passed since he'd been with Pansy, Draco struggled to think of some clever, flirtatious response. However, it seemed Potter—Harry— was not only the mischievous type indeed, but also impatient.

- _H_ -

Harry had had enough. He was practically aching now. How had things progressed so quickly? Harry hadn't a clue: but he knew he _had_ to snog Draco Malfoy. _Now_. Harry was now sure Draco's smirk had some sort of implication of feelings- or at the very least, desire. He saw the way his eyes had swept over him. He saw, and oh, he was going to do something about it. His hand firmly grabbed the sleeve of Draco's cloak and he promptly pulled him outside the small registration room. The door closed and without hesitation he had Malfoy against the wall.

- _M_ -

 _Is this some sort of arrest?_ Draco wondered. He was up against the wall, but-

His lips were suddenly pressed firmly against Harry's. Harry James Potter was bloody _kissing_ him in the Ministry of Magic. Draco gasped between Harry's lips in surprise, and a moment later pulled them closer with his hands in Harry's hair.

- _H_ -

Harry barely had time to register what he was doing- _kissing Draco!?_ \- before coming to realization that he was being kissed back. And bloody _hell_ , was it great. He felt Draco's long fingers slip into his unkempt hair and pull him in and tried not to hum with pleasure. As he stepped closer to him, Harry felt a vibration on his lips as Draco did, indeed, hum, feeling a certain firm area make contact with his.

 _-M-_

Jesus, Potter was hard. Draco couldn't even correct himself to think "Harry" anymore; bad habits die hard after all, and his mind was more than a bit preoccupied at the moment. He felt a similar tug in his groin, and an amusing grunt from Potter told him he was just as pleased with the contact as Draco was. He pried Potter's lips apart and slipped his tongue inside and it was Potter's turn to hum. The exploring began, the awkward, tentative contact of tongues turning into the usual battle of dominance. Jesus, this snog was practically a metaphor for their Hogwarts years, Draco thought. But this time he wasn't going to let Harry get away. Now, he had him right where he wanted him. Draco was a bit taller than Harry, towering over him just enough to bring the hand that wasn't buried in Potter's hair up to his face and lift his head up to deepen the kiss.

 _-H-_

This was getting ridiculous, Harry thought wildly. They had to find somewhere- now. He certainly didn't want to shag Draco for the first time- if they were going to do so- in a Ministry bathroom. Reluctantly, but with a smirk, Harry pulled back, gasping for air a bit.

"You wanna get out of here?" He said, looking up into Draco's grey, dazed eyes.

" _Yes_." Came Draco's breathy response. Harry noticed his heart double its pace and felt himself harden a bit. He turned and led Draco down the corridor and into the white, blank oval room, holding the door open for him. Draco seemed to hesitate, so Harry winked in assurance and licked his lips- that got him moving. As soon as they were in the room, Harry apparated them to his bedroom, and a moment later Draco was sprawled out on the bed in front of him, with a look of awe and hunger.

 _-M-_

It was Draco's turn to smirk, pulling the pink slip out of Harry's robes as Harry eased on top of him and kissed at his neck.

"Don't you need this to apparate us like that?" Malfoy teased. Harry bit slightly, making Draco's hips jerk unexpectedly upward. Harry smiled against his skin.

"Sod it, it's waited this long," he muttered impatiently. As much as Draco had called Harry "slow" in their younger days, it was obviously not a concept the dark-haired boy struggling to undo the buttons of his shirt was familiar with. Draco's hips jerked again as Harry's warm fingers slid across his chest.

"Speaking of waiting," Draco said slyly, "I don't think I can much longer." Harry made a soft noise that somewhere between a whimper and a groan and absentmindedly sent a patronus to his assistant saying it would be a full day absence instead. (Though it would likely be hard to understand, given he was almost out of breath.) Draco smiled.

It was going to be a thrilling afternoon.


End file.
